His Captive Princess (15 page)

Her guards stood. If either man pushed the discussion into an altercation, loyalties would be divided.

She swept around Sayer and hooked her arm in Warren’s. “Lew, you needn’t rush into a betrothal. Warren’s king wants peace with Wales, and I—”

A Norman soldier stepped onto the dais, startling her with the interruption. He offered Warren a brief bow before leaning to speak into his ear. She strained to hear the message he’d brought, disturbing their dinner, but she couldn’t make out the words.

Warren’s arm muscles tensed under her hand.

The soldier moved further down the table, pausing to whisper in Domenic’s ear, as well.

“Sayer, Nest.” Warren beckoned her guards closer. He eased away from her to speak to them. “Escort the women and the prince to the solar. We’re under attack.”

“Attack?” Eleri snagged Warren’s hand. “By whom?”

He gave her fingers a brief squeeze before releasing her. “Vaughn.”

She scanned the hall. Verily, Lord Vaughn and his men were not among the guests.

Dom stood and drew his sword. “The sentries say he’s sent volleys of flaming arrows into the palisade. The gate is on fire.”

Warren armed himself, as well, leaving her side to follow his brother toward the exit.

Eleri shrugged off Nest’s hand and drew her dagger. “My weapons!”

“Aye,
Dywysoges
!” she growled, smiling, and ran for the alcove stairs.

A throng of men, both Norman and Welsh, followed the commanders out the doors, which led to the bailey and the besieged walls. Eleri hurried after them.

“Your Highness!” Sayer overtook her before she reached the door, grabbing her elbow in an iron grip. “You must not put yourself in harm’s way.”

She tore loose from his fingers. “I’ll be fine. I’m as good as any of these men.”

“But not without me.” He brandished his blade. “Let me at that cowardly whelp Vaughn. I’ll split him from throat to balls.”

Eleri gave him a quick smile. Yet catching the frightened forms of Warren’s mother and sister, who stooped to embrace Caesar’s neck as if her life depended on him, she shook her head at her friend. “Nay. Please stay. I need you to keep them safe.”

“My lady, I beg you—”

“You must stay!”

He grimaced. Then after a momentary look at the quaking ladies, he reluctantly slumped off to follow her orders.

Eleri flew out the exit and down the steep causeway, her gaze rapidly scanning the darkened field. Smoke hung in a cloudy curtain between the night sky and the bailey below. An empty belfry, used in sieges, stood between her and the gate where the soldiers spread out in a defensive line with loaded crossbows to thwart the attackers. She made out Warren and his brother’s backs as they ran toward the fray. Cursing her beautiful dress, she gathered as much of the skirt in her hands as she could and set off to join the men.

“Wait, Eleri!”

She wheeled around. Prince Lew caught up with her a short distance from the doors of the keep. Panting, he held his blade in his grip. The elaborate, royal Deheubarth engraving glimmered on the untarnished steel. “Lew! By the saints, get back inside with Sayer!”

His eyes hardened. “Leave the defense to these doomed bastards. Come with me. I know a way out.”

She glanced over her shoulders. “A way out? I’m not fleeing here. There are innocent people down there. Vaughn is mad, attacking us when he knew we were in the midst of a treaty.”

“Aye, isn’t it brilliant?” Lew’s mouth curved.

A shiver ran down her back at the striking sense of familiarity. So like Owain. And yet so…different. Rash. Immature.

He reached for her hand, but she yanked it back. “This is reprehensible. The English will retaliate, and everything will be for naught!”

He extended his palm to her. “Come, Eleri! Deheubarth will take Cardiff Castle, and your father will be very pleased. This is the Anarchy we’ve all been waiting for. We’ll take one of Normandy’s most prized strongholds and two of Stephen’s commanders will die.”

Warren and Dom?

She curled her hand against her pounding heart. “Tell me you did not conspire to kill these people? Lew, I’m going to
wed
Warren de Tracy!”

The corners of his lips drew into a mask of disgust. “After what he put you through? I know you don’t want to marry him, and I don’t want to wed that whore’s daughter, either. If you’d only let him die on Cantref Mawr when he was supposed to, we wouldn’t have—”

“Lew!”

The air went still around them. The shouting at the palisade dimmed while she turned his words over in her head. Shock rolled over her, and her dagger arm felt suddenly heavy. He had spared Warren’s life at her recommendation, but had he given the original order to slaughter the conroi on purpose? “You
sent
Gareth to kill him! You…you knew he was coming to Deheubarth with no mind to attack us, just to arrange
our
marriage, and you had us ambush him anyway?” In Vaughan’s hands, Warren would’ve surely been murdered. Again as her brother-in-law had intended all along.

His proud grin sickened her far worse than the stench of burning timber. “Of course. I couldn’t let his conroi reach our doorstep. The Council might’ve agreed to the arrangement, and then you would’ve been at the bastard’s mercy. I was trying to save you from a horrible fate.”

“I love him, Lew.” Her throat burned, making it hard to speak anymore. The smoke combined with threatening tears choked her. “I
want
to marry him. And he’ll be a good ally to the Deheubarth if we agree to this truce. You must call off Vaughn and stop the attack.”

She glanced back at the wall. Warren wore no armor, and his tunic stood out in the sea of mail. He moved through the archers, shouting orders, dodging arrows, slashing at rebels who managed to breech the wall. Her stomach twisted with fear.

“Listen to you. You’ve spent too long with our enemy. Have you forgotten Owain so soon? Normans killed my brother!”

Dragging her attention back to Lew, she backed away from him in repulsion. “Nay. ’Tis not true. Owain and the others attacked Cardigan, not the other way around. But even if they had killed my husband in cold blood, ’twasn’t Warren’s hand that did it. I cannot stand aside and let you murder these innocent people.”

“I need you, Eleri. If you marry the Norman, your father will refuse to join our rebellion.” Lew stalked her, throwing back his shoulders with indignity. “I forbid you to aid them.”

His steel flashed menacingly from his outstretched arm. He would not dare strike his sister-in-law! Yet…his eyes were full of menace, bloodlust and greed.

She glanced between the slowly advancing prince and the wall beyond the abandoned belfry. She could run.

Faking a step to the side, she broke for the open field. Lew flung curses at her back, following, but she kept her gaze on the soldiers. A man sprang forth into the bailey, making a direct line for her and the causeway.

“Catch the princess!” Lew ordered his soldier.

She changed directions, darting left. The old siege belfry made a poor escape route, but it was the only one she had. When it came to climbing, she held the advantage, even though her dress slowed her down.

Reaching the battered tower, she sheathed her dagger and latched onto a foothold just as the first arrow struck the weathered timber.

Chapter Fifteen

Warren removed his sword from the dead man’s side after the sickening sound of his last breath and grimaced, wearying of the pointless killing. He descended the ladder leading down from the wall to the inner yard, wanting to survey the battle below. At least De Braose’s borrowed recruits had effectively surprised Lew’s men, giving Warren a much-needed advantage.

He paused to rub his blurring eyes when a woman’s voice called across the smoky field. His chest constricted.
Mon Dieu! Please don’t let her be out here.

He whipped around, scanning the polluted bailey. Of course, Eleri would be fighting with him, but since she wasn’t, that must mean—

Another scream drew his attention away from the combatants to a point high in the air. On the side of the timber belfry, Eleri clung to the beams, while Prince Lew followed her several yards below.

What in the name of Christ was she doing?

“Dom,” he yelled at his brother, who presently held his booted foot against the throat of an attacker, “take charge of the men.”

Without waiting for his brother’s response, he ran to the base of the belfry. When he arrived, he gazed up at the soles of the boots above him. Prince Lew, the bastard, was a dizzying three lengths away, creeping sideways across the beams for better footing. Eleri held fast directly above him.

Bon sang!
If he were a better archer, he’d aim at the damned youth, but with his poor fortune with arrows, he’d probably strike Eleri instead. So he grappled the boards, working his way skyward. Sweat beaded at his hairline at the thought of the height, and moisture drizzled down his face. Up and up he went, ignoring the sting of perspiration as it met his eyes, keeping his sights on his progress. His muscles bunched as he swung his legs up and over another board, and he concentrated on his inner strength as he strained—on Eleri, the woman he loved more than anything in the world. Higher and higher. He mirrored her movements now as she ascended to the highest level of the tower, picturing the way he’d seen Sayer managing the altitude despite his bulk, as he tried for the same actions.

In two lunging moves, he caught up with the prince, grasping the youth’s calf as he hung perilously from a beam with one arm.

“Warren!” Eleri cried. She extended her dagger threateningly down at the lad’s face.

Lew grunted, kicking his leg. His expression purpled with rage. “Let go! You’ll not have Owain’s wife. I’ll see you both dead first.”

Warren pulled against the young man, using all his brute strength to wrap the whelp’s leg around one of the supports. The prince squawked in pain, his ankle twisting. The beam beneath Warren’s weight suddenly groaned. With a loud snap the wood broke, splintering in half. Warren let go of his enemy, catching hold of the next beam down and saving himself from a fall to certain death.

Eleri screamed his name again. He looked up to find her struggling with her brother-in-law, who now held her hem in his fist. Unable to take his eyes off his beloved, he clambered up to join them on the top platform, pulling himself up the railing.

The princess flailed with her dagger at the prince, swatting him with the flat of the small blade as tears coursed down her cheeks. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will!”

“I’ve no doubt of that. You’ve broken my heart already.” Lew staggered to his feet, freeing his weapon to parry against hers. “You’re worthless. Owain was like a father to me, a wonderful ruler, and this is how you honor his memory? Whoring with a Norman?”

Warren dropped the bow and quiver and drew his own weapon. The hefty steel gripped comfortably in his hands. “My lady said she doesn’t want to fight you. But I do,” he growled at the prince’s back.

Lew hobbled around, dragging his twisted ankle. “I will accept that challenge.” He sneered with a glint in his eyes.

Lew was green and reckless, but Warren couldn’t lie to himself—the youth would be well trained to use the fine blade. The boards beneath their feet shivered as his opponent threw himself into the first strike.

Swords clashed, steel singing as it grazed off steel. Lew moved away from Warren’s jabs, but after several measured strokes, Warren could read the patterns of his actions. Though he wished he had his shield, he soon had the young prince moving in circles, ducking more than striking, muttering agonized curses from the impact on his ankle.

Movement from the corner of Warren’s eye caught his attention. Eleri had picked up his bow and aimed a notched arrow at the prince. She was a pagan princess worthy of legends with her bliaut flowing around her in the smoky breeze while her arms became an extension of the weapon itself, carved of flesh instead of sapling yew.

“Put it down,” she ordered, voice low and lethal.

Lew snarled at her, “Some shield maiden! Daughter of the ancient Aberffraw line? Ha! Think what your father will say when he hears you defended his enemy. I never felt worthy to wear my brother’s mantle until now, killing his foe.” He turned as he finished, lunging toward Warren.

He struck a heavy blow at Warren, hurling into him, but Warren anticipated the move, blocking the swing and sidling against the barrier. The force twisted the boy’s damaged foot, and he fell forward with an oath. Eleri’s arrow hit his back squarely between his shoulder blades, the brunt sending him into the rail. The board cracked, breaking and spilling him over the side. He screamed as he fell—a sickening gut-wrenching call for help, answered only by the blessing of a quick death upon impact.

Warren clutched at the splintered end of the loose rail as he lost balance, his stomach tumbling and his body sure to follow. But quick hands seized his tunic as Eleri dragged him against her, and he embraced her as they collapsed in a heap on the platform. Glancing out at the bailey, he found his brother leading the capture of the remaining attackers. With the last enemies imprisoned, everything was under control.

Safe
. The woman he loved. His family and friends. Everyone safe.

She buried her face against his neck, her fingers still gripping the fabric of his raiments.

He kissed the crown of her head and pushed the loose tendrils of her hair from her face as he tilted her chin to see her better. “Hush now. Don’t cry.” He kissed her forehead, her salty eyelids and her full lips. “You saved my life.”

But tears filled his eyes too. Happy, relieved tears.

“I can’t believe he could be so cruel. I should’ve known he’d meant to kill you from the first attack. How could I have not known his intentions?” She rubbed a tear away, staring up at him with eyes full of guilt and concern. “Gareth was his man and would never do anything on his own. He’s always been loyal to the Prince of Deheubarth.”

“
Mon amour
, you were blinded by your feelings for your people, but that’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a leader they can be proud of. You’re devoted and brave, fierce and caring.” He kissed her lips longer, caressing her face with gentle fingertips. His soul swelled with fierce emotion. “I love you,
ma belle fée rouge
. I will defend you with the last drop of my blood and my last breath.”

She reached for him, pushing her hand into his hair at his nape, and brought his mouth to hers for a lasting, life-affirming kiss.